


i bought us a house in malibu

by soontobebritish



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Top Harry, Top Louis, honestly domestic af, written back in like 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 15:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soontobebritish/pseuds/soontobebritish
Summary: When he walked into their room, Harry was once again sprawled on the bed, this time wearing a pair of solid red, short little swim trunks Louis had given him for Christmas. They were Burberry, Harry’s latest obsession, and the outline of his dick wasn’t hard to spot.God, he loved their home in Malibu.[or, harry and louis hide away from everyone and just spend time together in their home.]





	i bought us a house in malibu

Louis knew that Alberto would always help him, and that’s exactly why it worked. They tag teamed to make sure everything happened flawlessly and together managed to pull it off at various times. As long as Louis had his bodyguard by his side and Harry continued to be Harry, their plan would succeed just as they hoped.

Alberto sat next to Louis in business class, but the bodyguard was fast asleep as Louis refreshed his timeline waiting for the pictures to surface. Within the hour, a picture of Louis with a fan in the UK would appear on update accounts but would be greatly overshadowed by Harry’s arrival at LAX.

That’s all they needed. A confirmation that they were worlds apart occupied the minds of the fans and management, keeping everyone happy, knowing that they weren’t together.

But soon they would be.

Louis pulled at the collar of his Adidas hoodie, knowing it was his boyfriend’s favorite. He just had to suffer through a plane ride, a sneaky maneuvering of the LAX airport, and a drive into the hills, then they would be reunited.

It wasn’t like they’d been separated for long.

Harry had celebrated Christmas with his family while they were in New York for Saturday Night Live and Jimmy Fallon. Louis’ mum, five sisters, brother, stepdad, and gran and gramps had flown to the city for some time together. Harry had been welcomed in with ten sets of open arms. Eleven, including Louis’.

Louis always knew his family loved Harry, but it was during the times when Harry was around all of them at once that he was reminded just how well the man of his life fit into his insanely weird family dynamic.

Harry, Fiz, and her friend had spent a ridiculous amount of time ice-skating at the park, and miraculously no one had noticed the lengthy boy zipped up in a dark grey hoodie with his little sister.

There had been a morning when Louis woke to an empty bed, only to find Harry in the room next door with Doris in his arms, helping her drink a bottle while enjoying a cup of coffee with his mum.

“Dan was still sleeping,” Harry muttered when Louis sat beside him at the table, pulling out the room service menu to look at the breakfast options.

“And Harry was a gentleman and offered to help with the babies,” Jay finished for him, as she fed Ernie.

“He’s no gentleman, mum,” Louis chuckled without taking his eyes off a list of omelets. “He’s going to steal Dori, just wait. You’ll see. All he talks about is us having kids.”

Harry huffed, coddling the little girl closer to his body, and she sighed around the nipple of her bottle. There was no questioned that his youngest sister adored Louis’ boyfriend just as much as the others, but Louis challenged the world to find a child who didn’t.

Later in the day, before their interview, Harry and the twins rampaged Toys ‘R’ Us, where Harry, not Louis, bought them all of the Ever After High dolls. He proceeded to play with the twins and the dolls after they’d returned to the hotel, and when he and Louis were getting ready for bed that night, Louis criticized him in the most loving manner that he spoiled his siblings maybe, possibly, probably too much.

“I just want them to like me,” Harry admitted sheepishly before he went into an offsetting discussion about how if they had Raven Queen then they needed Madeline Hater, because they were best friends. And if Harry bought Ashylnn Ella and then he had to get Hunter Huntsman, because “they’re in love, Louis Tomlinson. And everyone needs to be with the person they love.”

“You’ve always been a hopeless romantic, H,” he muttered as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s bare waist. His thumbs hooked together behind Harry’s back as Louis rested his chin on Harry’s chest. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Harry’s eyes smiled as he leaned down to kiss Louis on the forehead. “And,” he said, “if you need a birthday idea for them, you could always buy them the dolls in their Thronecoming dresses because I’m sure they would love those.”

Louis groaned, rolling his eyes as he pushed Harry backward onto their bed so he could straddle his waist. Harry fucking whimpered as Louis rolled his hips with every intention to make his boyfriend forget every single name of the Ever After High dolls.

The Tomlinson-Deakin family’s last morning in NYC was bitter cold, directly reflecting the pang in Louis’ heart as he cozied next to his boyfriend at brunch. Harry’s hand squeezed Louis’ thigh as he carried a conversation with Dan about cars and inflation of prices or something, something far above Louis’ head.

Louis had a ticket to fly back to Donny with his family later that night. All eleven of them were taking the airways by storm, but Harry was staying behind. He had friends to catch up with, offers to explore, and last minute shopping to complete.

“I’m picking your present up tomorrow afternoon,” Harry breathed into Louis’ mouth as he begged him to come home, “I can’t just leave it here. Can’t just leave without it.”

“You can,” Louis hissed, biting at Harry’s bottom lip. “I don’t want any presents, Haz. I want you to come home with me.” He was tempted to go full on cheesy and tell Harry that a plane ticket to Heathrow for himself could be both Louis’ birthday and Christmas present, but he wanted to maintain a little dignity as he begged Harry home.

“Lou,” Harry whined, running his fingers through his hair, “you know I can’t. It’s not…I have to meet with Jeff again, and…”

“I know,” Louis stopped him quietly, brushing his fingertips up and down Harry’s back.

He knew. Louis knew. And that almost made everything worse.

He knew that Harry was hanging out with Jeff in order to explore possibilities of changing management, and maybe Louis should have stayed as well. But he didn’t. They finished their brunch, together, as a family, one mum, a stepdad, six step-siblings, two grandparents, and an ugly boyfriend. Then they said goodbye. 

Harry curled around Louis, awkwardly clinging to his back, which was covered in bright neon backpacks and a baby bag or two. Their lips brushed when no one was looking, then Alberto herded Louis into one of the two waiting SUVs, and he was gone. Harry was left standing on the New York City curb, watching his boyfriend flee back home.

Thankfully they reunited on Christmas Eve just two days later. Louis spent the majority of the day in Doncaster, and only after his siblings sang Happy Birthday and devoured his favorite cake did he speed to Holmes Chapel in an hour and twenty minutes where Harry was waiting with birthday sex in tow. 

Christmas Day was spent together, absolutely wrapped in one another as neither Robin nor Anne nor Gemma cared about their PDA. They didn’t have to control themselves nearly as much as they did around Louis’ family, younger siblings and all, and found themselves sprawled on top of each other, watching Home Alone on the couch. Harry giggled at all the various parts, watching Kevin’s schemes unfold flawlessly as the Wet Bandits mewled in pain. There were times when Harry would sit up slightly in order to get a better view of a certain scene, and Louis would just watch in awe of his pretty boyfriend with pretty hair and pretty eyes, wondering how he landed himself such an awestruck love. 

\--

The days following Christmas were spent in Holmes Chapel as well. The boys stayed in Harry’s old bedroom, tangled tightly in his old twin bed, not bothered in the slightest by the unaccommodating confines. Though Harry was seen once or twice, Louis was never spotted. No one other than Harry’s family and a few of their close friends knew that the boys were together. And the best part about Holmes Chapel was that was exactly how it stayed. No one snitched—they left the boys alone, leaving them to spend much needed time together, out and about.

They walked through some of the stores in town, visiting some people Harry knew along the way. It wasn’t weird for the villagers to encounter Harry and Louis. The town of six thousand had an endless amount of respect for Harry and his family, and it trickled over into respect for Louis as well. The pair stopped at an Inn to visit an old teacher who was retired from education but worked a part time job just to keep busy. They shopped, snagging a few after Christmas deals, and finished with dinner at The Wine Bar, where the server was Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

“What’d you like about her?” Louis taunted, watching Harry from across the table.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, hating when Louis brought up any former lovers, because to him, they were history—history that didn’t matter at all.

“Why do you have to do that?” Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair. “You do it to spike your own jealousy, baby, and I’ve told you time and time again that there is literally no one else for me.”

Louis had only been teasing, but Harry’d taken him seriously and it made him cringe. Because god, he knew. There wasn’t anyone else out there for him either; it was just a little fun to bring some jealousy into their relationship. Just a little. But since Harry wasn’t having the banter, Louis stood up, pulled him to the bathroom and snogged him senseless before returning to his seat, leaving Harry behind.

When Harry eventually returned, he growled, “Leave me fucking hard…having to take care of myself.”

“You didn’t,” Louis deadpanned. He had purposely pulled away when he felt Harry’s hard on pressed against his thigh. He was classier than a fuck in a bathroom with people who knew them so close.

“I did,” Harry licked his lips, “and you have no right to be mad.”

Louis wasn’t mad, he was heated, and he’d never eaten his dinner as quickly as he had that night.

A definite holiday highlight had been sledding when a slick layer of snow iced the land overnight, leaving them with a white post-Christmas. Harry woke to Louis shaking him with excitement, eyes wide, resembling the child Harry knew he was.

“We are going sledding,” Louis said insistently, brushing the curls away from Harry’s tired expression as their lips ghosted against one another.

Harry hummed, closing his lips around Louis’. “Okay,” his sleepy voice whispered as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. “But if you want me up, you’ll have to make me coffee first.”

Louis was gone in a second, skidding down the wooden stairs in socks, slipping into the kitchen where Anne was finishing her breakfast.

“It’s already done,” she hummed, not looking up from the paper she was reading.  
“Cream is there.” She pointed to the pitcher on the table, making Louis chuckle.

“How’d you know?” he asked.

“Harry is predictable when it comes to three things,” Anne replied, glancing to give Louis a tiny smile. “Coffee is one of them.”

“What are the other two?” Louis wondered, reaching for a mug from the cupboard before pouring the black coffee in and inhaling the wafting steam.

“Fashion,” Anne said. “Look for the most outrageous shirt in the store when you’re shopping for him. Guarantee he will love it.”

Louis smirked, knowing that was completely true, but also knowing the back-story behind his boyfriend’s wardrobe. Harry was being controlled—and the one thing he could make a statement with was his clothing.

“What’s the third?” He poured the cream into the cup before looking up at Anne and waiting for her answer.

She rolled her eyes; clearly Harry took after his mother in facial expressions. “You, Louis. When it comes to you, he’s entirely predictable.”

Louis’ smile filled his face as he gleamed. “It’s a bit ridiculous at times, honestly.”

“I would agree,” Anne nodded, laughing slightly so she didn’t offend Louis. “My boy would do just about anything for you, sweetie. But I suppose it’s all right because you’d do just about anything for him.”

“Not just about anything, Anne,” Louis corrected her, “I would do absolutely anything.” He kissed her cheek quickly before darting back up the stairs. He gave Harry the mug as he stumbled into the boy’s bathroom, seeing him applying deodorant before throwing on Louis’ sweater.

“Here you go, love,” Louis said, setting the mug on the countertop. “Dress warm, babe. It’s freezing.”

“And yet you’re dragging me outside in the cold none-the-less,” Harry grumped. “Forcing me out of bed, into the wilderness, with frozen water covering everything.” His drama was reaching an all time high. “Louis Tomlinson, there’s a reason why I bought us a house in Malibu and it directly correlates with the word ‘winter’ and how much I hate it.”  
\--

Louis snickered, pulling on a pair of sweats over his boxers and a sweatshirt on over Harry’s white tee from yesterday. He probably should have been embarrassed at the state he was in when he conversed with his boyfriend’s mum, but he wasn’t.

“H, one day in the snow will not fucking kill you,” Louis narrowed his eyes at Harry as he walked to his closet and located his Hunter boots.

“If I get hypothermia…” Harry started.

“You won’t,” Louis said, walking over to Harry, stepping behind him, to wrap him in a hug, “I will bring you inside long before you get hypothermia. I will make you hot chocolate with the yummy stuff we got from San Francisco during the tour, then I will warm you up in the best way I know how.”

“Sex,” Harry answered in a forced monotone voice, unable to stop his breath hitching at the last second.

“I was going to say cuddling by the fire, you one-track-minded boy,” Louis nipped at Harry’s neck after pushing the curls away, attempting to subdue his smile. “But if that’s what you want…”

Harry growled, pulling out of Louis’ embrace, eyes on fire as he threw Louis a winter coat and put on his own. “We have to go now, otherwise we aren’t going at all.”

Louis felt brilliant. He always did when he exercised his power over Harry. It wasn’t always on purpose, he just liked a bit of banter, always had, but Harry was consistently so responsive to it.

He let his coat fall to the floor, moving towards Harry and backing him into the wall before he could protest. Louis’ lips hovered just in front of Harry’s, a slow smirk crawling onto his face as he reached down to cup Harry in his fucking ridiculously tight jeans.

“You’re a little shit,” Louis muttered, biting Harry’s bottom lip, “always wanting me. Always needy for it.” Harry’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Louis undid the zipper that barely restrained his dick, folding the denim down far enough to shove his boxers away and pull him out. He hissed as Louis stroked him, hands pulling, crashing Louis against him in a heated kiss which caused them both to moan.

It was Louis who forced himself away, spreading precome around Harry’s tip and down his shaft as he whispered into his ear. “Gem is right next door,” he chuckled as a low moan drew from the back of Harry’s throat, “gonna have to be quiet.” Harry whimpered as Louis dropped to his knees, looking up beneath his eyelashes as he wrapped his lips around the head. 

Louis got him off quickly, tightening his lips around the base and holding Harry in the back of his throat before he slid his mouth up and down. All the while, Louis’ eyes watched Harry, looking for the signs that told him he was close.

Harry’s his lips parted, his nose twitched, and his eyes clamped shut as his tightened fist yanked at Louis’ hair. Louis pulled back, closing his lips around the tip and using his hand to get Harry off. When he came with a gasp, Louis swallowed around Harry, come spurting down the back of his throat. Louis groaned. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and he licked Harry clean before pulling off, tucking him away. He stood up to give his boyfriend a dirty kiss, chuckling as Harry growled at his taste on Louis’ tongue. 

The lazy grin on Harry’s face warmed Louis’ heart, still hopelessly obsessed with the way he could give his boyfriend a blowjob whilst pushed against a wall, but feel grossly in love at watching Harry’s post-orgasm face.

“You…?” Harry asked, adjusting the fringe on Louis’ forehead.

Louis shook his head, not needing the relief immediately thought he knew sporting a semi as they walked through the kitchen had the potential for being all kinds of awkward. “After,” he replied, kissing Harry’s cheek. Leaving him shuffled up against the wall, Louis went to brush his teeth and fix his hair.

When they left the house, hand in hand, they took a right, out of the backyard and towards the open fields that lay beyond. They made their way towards the creek that ran through the forest just beyond the homes sporadically dotted along the road. If they hopped the creek and followed it for a little, they would emerge at the sledding hill Harry used to go to when he was a kid.

Their sleds dragging against the ground, a dog barking in the distance, and the whistle of the wind were the only things that bit through their conversation. Their topics were small, light, completely unserious—but important.

Had Fiz liked the bear?

What about Lottie, what’d she end up getting?

Did Gemma and that boy ever go on a date?

How as Jeff? What was he up to?

Niall and Nadine? They actually seemed to hit it off pretty well, didn’t they? Ironic.

It was always so easy between them, endless conversations flowing back and forth and it’d been that way for five years. They never ran out of things to talk about, and neither one’s interest ever dwindled about the other person’s life.

\--

Once they finally got to the sledding hill, they raced, soaring down the icy snow, expertly avoiding obstacles, pushing each other, toppling on top of each other, crying out in fake pain. They spent hours running up and sliding down. Laughing until frozen tears trickled from their eyes.

When they returned home, they curled up in front of the fire with hot chocolate made from steaming milk and Godiva chocolate bars and were fast asleep before dinner was ready.  
It was later that night that Harry told him he was going to Los Angeles after New Years. Louis wasn’t mad; he wasn’t surprised; he wasn’t let down.

“I’m coming, too,” was all he said, and Harry didn’t say a single word in protest.

New Year’s Eve had been their best night together since the party they’d thrown at their house in 2012. They ate dinner with Harry’s parents and Gemma, enjoying fancy champagne and steak. Louis had made the mash potatoes and Gemma had made the gravy. Decidedly, their efforts paid off as the best part of the meal.

All through dinner Harry couldn’t stop smiling, and Louis knew why.

If there was one thing they each loved more than the other person, it was seeing the way they fit effortlessly into each other’s families. It warmed both of their hearts, putting them at ease that in at least some aspects, the future wouldn’t be all fighting and gnashing of teeth. As they continued to fight management, and someday as they found the media, their families would allow them to sink back into a routine of familiarity, comfort, and acceptance.

Once they finished, Harry and Louis did the dishes; one washed and the other dried. And when all the plates and bowls were stacked and the silverware was back in its place, the made their way down the street to Harry’s friend’s house to ring in the New Year.

The lights in the house were off, and Max, Harry’s friend, had only invited people who he knew would respect both Harry and Louis.

“Thank the fuck,” Louis said as he pulled Harry into the room with Max’s oversized speakers blaring, “that I don’t have to avoid you tonight.”

Harry beamed as Louis turned him around, slotting their hips together as he followed Louis’ rhythm to the beat of the music. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis’ neck, grabbing a fistful of hair as they grinded against each other. Hands grabbed and pulled, lips explored, not regret for a second that they were being that couple in public.

It was dark.

They were surrounded by friends.

And it was one of the five or six places they were guaranteed public privacy.

No one seemed to mind. 

As midnight drew near, delicate glasses were passed around and the lights flickered on. They had the TV turned on to a local countdown, which was playing alongside the music. Harry turned into Louis, wrapping his arms around his waist, careful not to spill the champagne behind, or down, for that matter, Louis’ back. Louis had set his glass down, finding the intimacy more important in the moment, as they shifted closer to each other, eyes locked together.

The countdown started from thirty, decreasing in sync to Louis’ heartbeat as he looked up at Harry, admiring the love swirling in his eyes.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Louis said quickly, “I’m glad we could do this surrounded by people who care about you.”

“You’re here,” Harry whispered, slightly digging his nails into the small of Louis’ back. “And I’m so glad.”

“Feels normal,” Louis smiled, “and I love it.”

“Me too,” Harry said, just as the countdown hit ten.

Their heads turned, to face the TV, watching the numbers flash across the screen as they continued to cling to each other. As soon as everyone shouted, “HAPPY NEW YEARS!” Louis rose on his tiptoes and kissed Harry hard, savoring the publicity of a kiss that happened close to never.

It was 2015.

He was ringing in the New Year with the one person he loved the most.

And they were kissing in public.

He couldn’t think of a better start to a new beginning. No matter how cheesy it was.

On New Year’s Day, they drove to their home in London, where they both packed bags for the trip. A car took Harry to the airport, and Alberto had called the paparazzi, warning them of his departure. It wasn’t long before the pictures were everywhere, the paps and the media were satisfied, and Louis departed for Heathrow with his ticket to LAX just like Harry. Except for his departure would, fingers crossed, happen silently.

Harry was staying until they all flew to Australia, but Louis’ duration would vary. He knew he would need to be seen around the UK in a few days time, and planned to fly home the eighth. Louis certainly wasn’t against flying back to LA, and maybe dragging Liam, so he and Harry could go out in public, but make it seem like a business related trip.

He knew he’d work something out. But that was days into the future. All he cared about in the moment was desperately searching for Harry’s arrival pictures. He knew they were coming, and all he could do was hold his breath. But he wouldn’t sleep until the pictures surfaced, and he definitely would even consider closing his eyes until Harry texted him that he was safe.

It was bound to happen—the stubborn little shit was insistent on not needing a bodyguard with him at all times, when in reality, Harry needed one more than any other member of the band.

Alberto was always with Louis.

Paddy practically lived with Liam.

Mark and Niall were best mates anyway.

Zayn never really left his house.

But Harry…Harry pranced around California like he owned the fucking world. And he did; Louis knew that. But with his power came the grave danger of mobs of fans and photographers. Harry always pushed through them. Harry always came away with red fury fingernail marks and camera lens bruises.

Louis was always furious.

“Haz,” he would seethe, each time he saw one of the marks on Harry not made by himself, “you’re not safe.”

“I’m fine, baby,” was always Harry’s response. He’d pull out of Louis’ grip, yank his sleeves down over his arms, and kiss Louis quickly. “Just a couple marks. They’ll be gone by morning.”

Sometimes they were. Sometimes they weren’t.

Either way, it didn’t stop Louis from wishing there was someone to protect him from savages waiting outside the LAX terminal.

Alberto stirred beside him, adjusting his legs as he straightened his spine. His eyes fluttered open, glancing at Louis beside him.

“Tommo, you just gotta sleep, mate,” he mumbled. “Harry will do his job. I’ll do mine. Sleep so you can be with your boyfriend when you get there.”

Louis stretched his neck, rolling it to the side and cringing as it cracked. “I can sleep with my boyfriend when I get there.”

Alberto snorted, “True.”

“He’ll be fine, won’t he?” Louis asked, biting his bottom lip to prevent it from wobbling.

“Isn’t he always?” Alberto replied, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. “You worry too much about him. He’s a big boy…he’ll be fine.”

Louis hummed, not in agreement, but not in disagreement either. Sure, Harry would be fine. But Louis hated not traveling with him. If they could just fucking travel together, then Louis would bring Alberto wherever they went. And if Harry protested, Louis claimed that he needed his bodyguard to feel safe. He’d claim that if Alberto wasn’t beside him, he’d be all skittish and worried, and Harry wouldn’t have that. He wouldn’t protect himself, but he’d protect Louis.

Louis refreshed his Twitter feed again, releasing a tiny gasp when a picture of Harry popped up on his screen. It was blurry, a mirage of blacks and browns, hat and hair, and slightly tanned skin. But it was Harry. Louis knew.

He refreshed again and another set of pictures appeared, slightly less blurry, still low quality. From the looks of it, they were rushed, as though they were being pushed around or possible chasing after him, but there was no mistaking the paparazzi around him, either.

He had on his terrible Burberry hat that Louis mocked endlessly. One of the many hats Louis desperately wanted to rip off his head, burn, and tell him to never cover up his perfectly curly long hair. He had his Ray Ban sunglasses on, a birthday present from Louis for his 20th birthday after he kept taking Louis’ to wear. His necklaces hung low around his neck—the famous cross and contradictory Jewish start as well as a new beaded one that Louis didn’t know where it’d come from. He had a black and white speckled tie wrapped around his neck, worn as a necklace as well, matching his grey shirt and grey skinny jeans.

Louis whined at the screen, sleeping his iPad and shoving it into his duffle. Harry was pictured in LA and his two unimportant pictures from the UK had circulated the Internet a few hours before. They were going to be fine, for a few days at least.

By the time Louis snuck through the gates of their house, a headache was ringing through his head. He hadn’t slept, had only panicked, fretting about being seen leaving the airport or in the backseat of a car as he drove through the streets. He’d spent too much time worrying and his brain was making him pay.

At the front of the house, Alberto and Louis split up. His bodyguard went to the guesthouse on the side of the property while Louis trudged straight to the front door, entering without a knock. Harry wasn’t in the living room as Louis dropped his bag on the couch. The TV wasn’t on, and it didn’t sound like anyone was in the kitchen. So he made his way upstairs to their room, finding Harry bundled in a mess of white sheets, sun streaking through the open glass windows, fast asleep despite the fact that it was midday.

His heart ached as he watched his sleeping boyfriend, making him forget momentarily about the aching in his head. Harry looked so innocent, cloaked by the oversized down comforter and the fleecy throw blanket they’d found at some random boutique. (Because yes they shopped at boutiques. If Harry’s headbands weren’t outrageously priced designer wear, they were hipster shit he found at some sketchy store Louis had been secretly dragged to.) His skin looked tan in comparison to the covers, and his hair was snared and greasy. They both needed a shower.

Removing his sweatshirt and sweats before he climbed carefully into bed, Louis sank beneath the sheets, spooning the dispersed limbs and resting his lips on Harry’s neck. His breath deepened as he sighed, the warmth of Louis’ body heating him, but he remained asleep as Louis nibbled down his neck, arms wrapped around Harry’s body to pull them closer together.

Harry only sighed again, purring slightly, and Louis knew he must have been stuck in a dream. With a glance at the clock, Louis snarled, finally slightly annoyed that his boyfriend hadn’t been waiting for him with ready arms. Figuring he must have been tired, and accepting it as a plausible excuse, Louis decided it was time for Harry to wake up.

\--  
He licked his lips, reaching down to wrap his hand loosely around Harry’s dick, grinning at the fact that he still never wore clothes to bed. Louis always teased him that it was his way of persuading Louis to have sex—prancing around without so much as pants an—whipping his dick out without a second thought. Of course, Louis didn’t hate it. Not in the slightest. And he especially loved the blush that conquered Harry’s cheeks when he suggested it was a seduction technique, because, of course, at times it was. And Louis knew that and he loved it and he adored that his exceedingly perfect boyfriend still searched for ways to lure him into bed. 

Louis moved his hand up and down Harry’s semi, making sure to keep his touch light, not wanting uncomfortable friction to be what woke the younger boy. Harry stirred, rolling his hips slightly into the touch, his cock hardening with a twitch. Louis smirked, loving the power he had over Harry even in his sleep. He threw the covers away from Harry’s body, gently pushing him so he was lying on his back, and placed his knees on either side of his waist.

Lowering his lips, Louis kissed a trail down Harry’s body. He started at Harry’s neck, sucking a faint love bite into the skin before licking down to his nipples, taking each in his mouth. That’s when Harry moaned, just barely, but Louis heard it, knowing it wasn’t quite loud enough to signal that he was awake. He kissed down Harry’s stomach, pressing a kiss to the center of the butterfly before licking the outlines of his ferns, which covered the most sensitive part of his body. That’s when Harry gasped, a sharp intake of breath; in seconds a hand was wound in Louis’ hair, pulling him away from the dick he was about to swallow and up towards slightly parted lips with morning breath on his tongue. 

The second their lips were connected, Harry groaned and Louis’ eyelids fluttered.

“God, I missed you,” Harry muttered against his lips, arching his back into the heat of Louis’ body.

“Clearly not enough,” Louis hummed, reaching down to palm Harry, “still sleeping when I got here.”

Harry hissed, biting his own lip as Louis pulled back to watch his reaction, face smug. Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s dick and moved his hand slowly, tugging upward. Harry’s jaw dropped, his ridiculously pink lips forming a perfect “O” as he failed to stutter an excuse for why he hadn’t been attentive and waiting when Louis arrived.

Louis didn’t really care.

If his baby needed sleep, then that’s what was important at the time. Harry could sleep all fucking damn day and Louis wouldn’t care as long as he was curled up beside him, feeling the heat of his body, the shudders of his dreams, the tickle of his breath.

God, he was in love. Louis kissed Harry chastely but negated the innocence as he ran his thumb over the head of Harry’s dick. Harry choked.

“Should go shower, Haz,” Louis whispered as Harry squeezed his ass. “Your hair is everywhere,” he could suppress his smile as he tugged at the curls fanned around his boyfriend’s face.

“But Lou,” he started to protest, pulling Louis’ hips down to meet his as he bucked up slightly. “I—” his eyes flickered across Louis’ face, searching for a trace of the joke he hoped Louis was pulling.

He found none.

So he sat up and pulled Louis face to his, kissing him deeply as he moved his hand to the front of Louis’ boxers, not wasting any time teasing, immediately wrapping his hand around Louis, pulling back the foreskin, and tracing his slit to spread pre-come over his head.

“Fuck,” Louis groaned, head falling back and eyes clamping shut. “Dammit, Harry,” he mewled.

“You’re such a shit, you know?” Harry told him, his voice rough with arousal, “Getting off on working me up, bit ridiculous.”

“Bit ridiculous how much I love getting you off?” Louis hissed. “Didn’t think that’d be something you would complain about.” And Harry snickered, kissing Louis until he pulled away and climbed off Harry’s lap, leaving him grabby and wide-eyed in bed. 

Louis chuckled, loving the sight of his boyfriend in flesh, even happier that he was turned on and needy, as well. “Come on,” Louis said, tugging off his boxers. He smirked when Harry’s eyes dropped to his dick. “I feel disgusting.”

Harry looked back up at him, confusion tainting the lust in his eyes as he watched Louis walk toward their master bath. He was still sleepy, and the idea didn’t click right away, but when he did, he was off the bed in a nanosecond, sheets caught around his ankles as he tripped out of bed.

Louis was waiting for him, hand testing out the steaming water to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

“You’re still adorable,” Louis smiled as Harry walked sheepishly towards him. “Nearly twenty-one and yet there are still times you are just as innocent as you were when you were sixteen.”

Harry wanted to control the blush on his cheeks, but he couldn’t. Disregarding it, he walked over to Louis, pressing him into the wall behind him. “So you’re gonna fuck me in the shower?” Harry growled into Louis’ ear, making his breath hitch.

“Ha,” Louis stumbled, slowly grinding his hips against Harry, “definitely didn’t have that mouth on you when you were sixteen.”

Harry preened, pulling Louis beneath the stream of water as they kissed. Their hands were everywhere, making sure each other was real. They were most grabby after days apart, needing to make sure that the flesh and blood before them wasn’t a figment of their mind. They were together, in person, in the most connected way they could be.

Louis’ lips brushed Harry’s, both mouths parted in a gasp as Louis reached down to Harry’s dick, wrapping a fist around it tightly. A whisper of curse words slung from Harry’s mouth as Louis nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, jerking him off slowly.

Harry didn’t want him to take his time. He wanted quick, fast, passionate shower sex because as they had so detailed-ly discussed in their days at the X-Factor house, shower sex was for lovers…not hook-ups or randos or anyone else.

That meant for Harry, shower sex was strictly reserved for Louis.

Well, all sex was reserved for Louis.

But shower sex was just…fuck.

“Hands up,” Louis said roughly, biting at Harry’s collarbone and timing his strokes just slow enough to make Harry ache. Harry obeyed, wrapping his arms around the faucet, careful not to hang, but following Louis’ instructions.

“Good boy,” Louis approved, reattaching his lips to Harry’s mouth. He continued working Harry up, ignoring his painfully hard dick twitching in desperation. Louis wanted to get Harry all worked up, wanted him near the point of begging before he gave him what he so wanted to. He reached to pinch Harry’s nipples, watching in fascination as his jaw dropped and a heavy groan filled the steamy air.

“Louis,” Harry whimpered, withering against the wall. “Please.”

And it was Louis who wanted to cry. Wanted to fuck the whimpers and groans and cuss words out of his boyfriend because it had been too long. It had only been a few days but it was still too fucking long.

Louis hummed, kissing Harry before he emitted a growl. With force, he turned the younger boy around and threw him against the wall. Harry shivered at the frigidness of the tiles but kept his hands securing around the faucet.

“I love you,” Louis said in his boyfriend’s ear, kneading his shoulders before he placed a kiss on the back of his neck. “So much.”

He had to say it—had to make something sweet before he did what he did next.

Louis dropped to his knees and spread Harry’s cheeks, tracing his thumb over his rim in circles, which made him squeak.

“Did you while I was gone?” Louis asked, lightheaded by the idea of his boyfriend fucking himself on his fingers because he was too far away.

As Louis popped just the nail of his thumb inside Harry, he grinned.

“You didn’t,” he answered his own question. “Still so tight.”

Harry cried out a disheveled moan. “Waited for you…” he gasped. “Wouldn’t have been good anyway.”

Louis looked up to see Harry’s head drop forward, chin resting on his chest, eyes tightly closed. “You need me to get off, don’t you?”

Harry nodded. “Please, Lou, please.”

“What do you want, H?” Louis asked, pressing his thumb inside Harry further but leaving it still.

“Your fingers or your tongue or…your dick,” his breath hitched as Louis pulled his thumb out and pushed it back in. “Something, please.”

Louis complied, wanting to get Harry stretched because he wants to just fuck him. Fuck him senseless. Fuck him so hard they can’t walk right and have to take it easy for the rest of the trip. His cock was so hard, he knew neither of them will last long, and teasing isn’t going to help.

He took his thumb out to add his pointer finger, moving it in and out slowly to loosen Harry. When he figured he’s ready, he added another, rocking them a little harder as Harry pushed back against them. By the third, Harry was probably ready. He was stretched enough that Louis’ cock could slide it with just a little burn…a burn that had been know to make Harry come…but just for good measures, Louis added a fourth, leaving Harry’s cry echoing through the bathroom.

“Good job, H,” Louis told him, “taking it so well.”

“Want your cock, Lou. Please?”

Louis couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out his fingers, ignoring Harry’s cry. When Louis stood, he grabbed his dick, eyes fluttering at the simple relief. “Ready?”

Harry nodded, angling his hips in preparation.

“Okay, baby,” Louis said as he lined himself up. Harry tensed, waiting for him to push forward, but the second Louis’ tip pushed past the rim of muscle, he choked, body turning to jello.

Louis grabbed Harry’s hands off the faucet and wrapped them in his own as he slammed their hips together sloppily, too gone to find a rhythm. Harry came first, spurting against the wall, untouched since before Louis fingered him, crying loudly as Louis tugged at his hair.

“Come, Lou,” Harry panted, desperate to get him off, “inside me, come on.” Harry’s eyes were glossy as he peered over his shoulder. “That’s it, baby,” he urged. “Please.”

Louis came, arms wrapped around Harry, mouth slack, voice lost as he pulsed and pulsed for what felt like forever.

“Fuck!” was the first word he said when he found the ability to speak. He pulled out slowly, desperately sensitive as few more curse words cluttered the air around them.

Harry turned around, wrapping his long arms around Louis and cuddling him against his chest. “Should wake me up like that every day,” he said in a kiss, to which Louis just smiled.

After they washed up and dried off, Louis wandered down to the kitchen, towel snug around his waist, hair dripping, haughtily making sandwiches while Harry got dressed.

He loved their sex life, loved never being able to get enough of one another, loved how Harry would bend at his mercy to do just about anything and loved how they both got off on it. Louis loved power and Harry loved watching him be powerful, especially when the power was exerted over him.

With a smile glued to his face, he threw together a couple sandwiches with the lunch meat,  
thankfully not yet expired, and mustard Harry had in the fridge. He found a tin of Pringles in the pantry, the wandered through the house to their room.  
\---

God, he loved their home in Malibu.

It was everything paradise was supposed to be. From the second he walked through the front doors, everything just felt at ease. He knew it was a place of rest—no work entered through the doors of the main house. There was a little cottage out back that Harry’d made into a recording studio. If they wanted to work, they went there. But their house was free from it all. The best way Louis could describe it was by comparing it to the feeling that hit him full force after he finished the last exam before winter break when he was in college—the feeling of letting go, sinking into relaxation, without a single worry threatening to undermine him. It was all him and Harry and laughs and love and a lot of overwhelming things that made him feel far too gooey than he liked to admit.

But when they lived in a public world full of lies and fakery, they needed a place where they could just be together, just be them.

When he walked back into their room, Harry was once again sprawled on a bed, this time wearing a pair of solid red, short little swim trunks Louis had given him for Christmas. They were Burberry, Harry’s latest obsession, and the outline of his dick wasn’t hard to spot.

“Here you go, babes,” Louis handed him the plate before collapsing onto the bed beside him. “Whatcha looking at?” he asked as Harry scrolled through his phone.

“Making sure you weren’t seen,” he answered seriously, a little wrinkle creasing his brow. “Just…triple checking.”

“I’m offended,” Louis scowled. “Don’t you think I’ve seen enough spy movies to sneak from an airport to the car to your house.”

“Our house,” Harry said.

“Our house,” Louis corrected. “Come on, H. I’d be a fucking brilliant secret agent!”

“Watching Spy Kids a million and twelve times doesn’t mean you have vast knowledge of the secret agent lifestyle, Lou,” Harry giggled as he took a bite of his lunch.

“I completely disagree,” Louis argued, rising up on his elbow so he could glare at his boyfriend. “I have an impeccable amount of coordination, unlike some flimsy limbed boy I know. Hell, I could probably do backflips to the SUV and no one would notice. Maybe next time we meet up in secret I’ll buy a black skintight suit in preparation.”

“Are you a spy or a ninja?”

“A ninja spy,” Louis tutted, “and don’t you even try to pretend like you wouldn’t love to see my ass in spandex.” 

A sly grin spread across Harry’s face as he blinked innocently, “Spy-kid ninja suit it is,” he muttered, “I’ll even order it for you. Bet Amazon Prime can have it here in two days…” Harry wiggled his eyebrows.

Louis hummed in victory, internally snickering, “That’s what I thought.”

When they finished their lunch, Harry threw the paper plates in the trash before forcing Louis into a swimsuit and dragging him to the pool. The Southern California winter had been unusually hot, and the trend had continued into the New Year. The temperature was close to ninety degrees (Fahrenheit), and it was perfect for laying out by the pool or floating on a raft. They just wanted to relax, soak in the sun, and prepare for the hurricane of spring, summer, and fall that was ahead of them.

Winter had quickly become Louis’ favorite season, as it meant there was time for him to breathe. But his favorite period of time had downfalls, like tactically scheduling time to be with Harry and watching terribly executed PR stunts unfold.

Management’s latest scheme involved Nadine What’sHerAss, someone Louis didn’t know and didn’t care to interact with. There was nothing but a fucking piece of paper holding him back from tearing the girl apart for agreeing to be a cover-up for his very gay, and by gay he meant very very gay, 100% dick obsessed, boyfriend.

Each stunt drove him a little closer to the edge of not giving any fucks. Drove him closer to deleting his twitter and making a new one so that no one else had access to it. Drove him closer to posting sixteen seconds of one of his and Harry’s sex tapes on Instagram so not a single soul in the goddamn universe could question the fact that they were together.

There were days he wanted everyone to know that he, Louis William Tomlinson, was absolutely, one hundred percent in love with Harry Styles, and nothing in the world would ever change that. 

They ended up making out in the pool, which Harry kept insanely overheated. It was just shy of a hot tub, but Louis didn’t care, as he was pressed up against the pool wall, snogging Harry. They were both wet and sun-kissed and tired but relaxed and when they finally pulled away to catch their breath the decided to sneak out to a little restaurant in the hills where no one would care if they were in One Direction because celebrities went there all the time and it wasn’t a big fucking deal at all.

Louis fell into bed that night beside Harry who was watching Netflix on his laptop.

“The TV is too far away,” Harry always said when Louis asked why he didn’t watch on their Netflix able TV. In reality, Louis thought it was a way to get them to tangle together, leaving Harry as the little spoon as Louis curled up to his side. If that was his plot, it never failed, because Louis no longer questioned in. He just curled into Harry and played with his curls as Criminal Minds glowed on the Macbook and eventually they both fell asleep.

The following morning Harry was out of bed far earlier than Louis, heading out for a run before he threw pancakes on the griddle for the two of them for breakfast. Louis found him drizzling syrup over two stacks of pancakes, still steaming and covered in butter.

They sat outside on the patio, eating slowly as Harry filled Louis in on the few outings he has planned so that he would be spotted around the town just to make sure no one was suspicious.

“We’ll spend today together,” Harry said, “go to the beach.”

“Do we get to ride horses,” Louis snickered, finishing off the last bite of his breakfast.

“If you so desire,” Harry grinned, placing his plate on the ground before he moved across the patio and folded himself onto Louis’ lap. He kissed Louis gently, lips sticky with syrup that Louis all but devoured before Harry pulled away with a frown. “But, I should probably go out tonight…”

Louis hummed, pulling Harry’s lips back to his. “I know,” he whispered, “it’s fine.”

And god, it was. Harry could go out long enough to be seen and Louis could tangle beneath the sheets of their bed. It didn’t really matter, because when they were together, in the same city, he could stomach seeing him out and about without him. It was fine.

“Do you wanna get dressed before we go?” Harry asked, looking down at the sweatpants that clad Louis’ legs and the boxers that barely hid any of Harry.

“I’m just gonna wear these,” Louis said, “but you should probably get something more than pants on.” 

Harry nodded, ungracefully stumbling off Louis’ lap. In minutes he returned, pulling his boyfriend off the sofa. His hair was tied back in a bun, sunglasses hiding his eyes. He had thrown on a pair of white basketball shorts that he rolled at the waist, showing off the band of his Calvin Klein’s.

“I don’t think we can go to the beach,” Louis said as he stood, lust clouding his eyes as he rested his hands on Harry’s waist. His eyes wandered up his torso, observing the abs protruding beneath his skin, making Louis want to lick their outline. “Not when you look like that.”

Harry snickered and hushed him, grabbing Louis’ hands, moving them off his torso, and folding one in his own. “Come on, Tommo. Can ravish me later.”

“I intend to,” Louis quipped, “for hours and hours after you get back from a night without me.” If Harry gasped, Louis didn’t acknowledge it, but the sound probably went straight to his dick. 

On their way out the back gate, Louis scooped up a football, grinning at Harry when he groaned. “Don’t complain, Harold. Let’s put those abs to the test.” Louis poked them, causing Harry to whine as Louis darted down the steps to the pathway that led to a little private beach.

By the time Harry caught up with him, Louis was skirting around on the beach, kicking the ball around just above the tide. Harry stayed back and watched, observing the way Louis’ body moved as he ran, hips swaying, back tightening. His hair flew in the wind, jostled against his forehead and slightly over his eyes.

God, he was a sight.

“Come on, H,” Louis tempted, kicking the ball towards Harry. “Play with me.” His smile was too wide, it threatened to crack his face as he ran towards Harry and jumped onto the younger boy’s back.

Giggling, Harry ran for the ball clumsily, body straining just slightly under Louis’ weight. “Faster!” Louis yelled, and Harry laughed again, weakly kicking the football and running after it. Halfway to the ball, Harry stumbled, his foot caught in a patch of loose sand, and the two boys fell to the ground.

Harry shrieked as Louis collided on top of him, rolling out from underneath him, stomach aching with laughter. “Not a ballerina,” Louis snickered, sitting up slightly, hands filtering sand through his fingers.

“Actually am,” Harry said, “I took a class with Kelsey’s daughter.”

 

Kelsey was a friend of Harry’s whom Jeff had introduced him too. She had a younger daughter who was nearly four. “They had a bring-your-dad-to-dance-class day and Kelsey asked if I would go with her.”

“I see,” Louis smiled, forever loving Harry’s unearthly desire to be around kids. “And did you learn how to do a pirouette?”

Harry nodded, “Wanna see?”

Before Louis could answer, Harry was on his feet, attempting to place them in the correct position. He went off about the instructions the dance teacher had given to the parents, running through the words step-by-step, and showing Louis how it was done. With a goofy smile, he flailed his arms, attempting to imitate the grace of a dancer. “Ready?” he asked, and Louis watched with wide eyes as he took a step, more like a lunge, forward, and attempted to spin. He kept one foot planted on his thigh as he twirled in a lopsided spin, laughing the entire time.

When he finished, he planted his feet and screamed, “THANK YOU, THANK YOU,” and Louis about died. He stood, jaunting over to his boyfriend to give him a kiss.

“I lied,” Louis said, cupping Harry’s cheek, “not only are you a beautiful ballerina, but you’re the best raconteur I know.”

Harry blushed, kissing Louis’ nose before he wrapped him in a hug. “I am a brilliant story-teller,” Harry said.

Louis told him that he was the best.

They proceeded to walk along the beach, kicking the football and picking up seashells as they discussed mindless things just like always. After grabbing hot dogs for lunch from a little shack, they headed back towards their house to clean up. They showered and Harry dressed, telling Louis he would just go out for dinner.

\---  
“Bring me back In-N-Out?” he begged as Harry slipped his boots on.

“Of course,” Harry answered, “Usual?”

Louis nodded.

Once Harry was gone, Louis settled down on the sofa in their family room to watch TV, willing the time to pass quickly. A few hours later, Harry stumbled through the garage door with a back of In-N-Out and two Starbucks cups in his hands.

“Jesus is home!” Louis exclaimed, hopping off the couch and towards the kitchen. Harry laughed, handing Louis his coffee, burger and fries.

“How was dinner?” Louis asked as he went to grab a paper plate.

Harry shrugged, “Still waiting for when I can just take you with me.” A crease furrowed on his forehead as he frowned.

“Hey,” Louis said, drawing Harry’s eyes towards him. “Soon.” He was so persistent with the single word that Harry managed to smile weakly.

“I know,” he whispered, and Louis decided to leave it at that.

They watched Remember the Titans while Louis ate, cuddling on the couch. Towards the end, Harry’s attention span was wearing thin as he ran his fingers up and down Louis’ thigh.

“You’re a lot of things, love,” Louis said without taking his eyes away from the screen, “but subtle is not one of them.”

Harry chuckled low in his throat because, yeah, he knew. But honestly, he’d been pretty good. Louis had been in his presence for just over 24 hours and he’d only gotten off once. That was about six times too few, if you asked him, because fuck, with Louis he’d go all day. He’d been tempted to suck Louis off at the beach, constantly eyeing his dick in those sweatpants, but he’d been good. He’d controlled himself.

Louis reached forward and grabbed the remote, shutting off the TV with a musical noise that was God’s grace to Harry’s ears. Without a word, Louis got up to throw his plate away, discarding his trash in the kitchen before he left the first floor without a glance back at his boyfriend.

Harry’s dick twitched in his boxers, knowing fully well that Louis was about to let him take what he needed. Part of him wanted to take his time, let Louis get settled before he barged into their room and promptly sat on his dick. The other part wanted said dick immediately. Jesus Christ, Harry thought as blood ran thick through his veins.

Leaving his dignity behind, he stomped up the stairs and burst into the room to see Louis butt naked, lying on top of the covers with his phone in hands. He looked preoccupied, but Harry knew he wasn’t. It was a game Louis loved to play, attempting to convince Harry that he was the only sex mad boy in their relationship.

What a fucking lie that was, considering Louis was already sporting a semi.

“Oh, hey, babe,” Louis glanced over the top of his iPhone screen.

Harry growled, shucking off his t-shirt before he climbed into bed. Straddling Louis, he wiggled his hips, rolling the denim against Louis’ dick to make his eyes flutter into the back of his head.

“Jesus,” Louis moaned, tossing his phone aside so he could grip Harry’s waist. He pulled his hips down, rocking against Harry’s thighs as he pulled him down into a kiss.

“Oh so you do want this?” Harry murmured, pulling back to lift his hips out of Louis’ reach.

Louis whined, need flashing through his eyes as his mouth parted with a desperate, “yes.” His grabby hands pull Harry back forward, and he reaches to undo his jeans. Harry’s eyes flutter as Louis flips them over, mouth trailing down Harry’s front as he moves to take off the rest of Harry’s clothing.

His lips hovered over Harry’s dick as he folded the skinny black jeans down his legs, tearing them off. Under his eyelashes, he watched Harry shake as he leaned down to press a tip on his length. 

“So ready,” Louis whispered, cupping Harry who was already hard. “God, it kills me that you are always so ready.” Louis’ blood felt like hot sauce, burning him from the inside out. “What do you want, Haz?” he asked as he pulled the boxers down Harry’s legs. “Tell me.”

Harry arched, cool air wrapping around his hard-on as Louis hovered inches from where he needed him the most. He could barely breathe as Louis trailed his fingers along his dick, down to his hole and back up.

“What, H?” Louis asked.

Harry wanted to cry because he didn’t know. He wanted Louis, and that was the only thing he was sure of. He didn’t know if he wanted a blowjob or if he wanted to get off just on Louis’ tongue. But part of him wanted to wreck Louis and watch him fall apart beneath him.

He didn’t know, which is what caused the overwhelming feeling to gurgle to the surface in a slightly concerning whine.

Louis smiled calmly, pulling away and moving to curl against Harry’s side. Brushing his fingers through Harry’s hair, he talked to him slowly, trying to calm the younger boy down. “Already too worked up?” Louis asked, stroking Harry’s cheek. “Breathe, Harry. We’ve got time, baby. So much time.”

They didn’t. They really didn’t have so much time. At least, it wasn’t enough. Harry wanted to stay in bed for days, honestly, forever, all wrapped up in Louis. But he couldn’t. And the result was his heart fluttering a million times too fast, wanting everything at once.

“Please, Lou,” Harry whimpered, turning his head to lock eyes with Louis. “Want…you.”

“Mmm,” Louis nodded, leaning down to slot their lips together. “Was gonna let you take control, H. Do you not want that?”

Harry gulped, knowing that Louis didn’t give up control often. About 70% of the time, Louis controlled Harry. Not because Louis was a dom or a control freak or anything like that, but because Harry absolutely loved being at Louis’ mercy. It made his heart thrum and his head ache and his body twitch and his dick hard.

But there was also something so beautiful about Harry watching Louis fall apart at his will, taking and giving and pleasing Louis to the best of his ability because sometimes, that’s just what they needed.

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered, curling towards Louis so they were both laying on their sides, curled together. His eyes were wide and shiny as he stared at Louis, lips red, nose wrinkled. “I just want you.”

Louis’ heart swelled, kissing his boyfriend as they grabbed for one another, holding skin so tightly bruises were sure to form. “I’m gonna make you feel good, then,” Louis whispered against Harry’s heart as he kissed the birds on his pecs. “So good.” 

Harry swallowed his groan, trying to quiet the noises he was making before anything had even happened. “Don’t be quiet,” Louis scolded instantly, knowing him way too well. “I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

Louis wiggled down the bed, settling between Harry’s legs as he parted them. Once again, he trailed his fingers down, running his thumb over his hole. Within seconds Harry was tense, arching off the bed in ecstasy. Just as he thought Louis was about to slip a finger in, he pulled it away, moving quickly to lick over Harry’s hole.

Harry’s cry filled the room, noises flooding from his mouth as Louis’ tongue moved against him. His back arched, fingers digging into the sheets as Louis used a hand to hold him down. With one hand pressed against his hip, Louis takes the other to open him up. Spit wetting his thumb as he slipped it in alongside his tongue. 

The harder Harry shook, the more insistent Louis was with his movements, and the more cuss words and cries left Harry’s mouth. “Fuck me,” Harry managed to cry, his voice wrecked with arousal. “Louis, please, fuck me, I need it. Please.”

With a growl, Louis pulled away, flipping Harry so he was on top.

“Ride me” Louis instructed, watching Harry’s widening eyes as Louis gripped his hands. “Come on, H. Take it.”

Harry grabbed the lube from the side table and squirted some onto his hands. Fumbling to close the cap, he tossed the bottle to the floor and jerked Louis off slowly. A choked off moan left Louis’ lips as Harry’s hand wrapped around his dick, tugging the foreskin away so he could run his thumb over the head.

“Shit, Harry, I can’t. I won’t…”

Harry stopped, wiping his sticky hand on his thigh before he took Louis and guided him inside. They both moaned as Louis’ head popped past the ring of muscle, allowing Harry to sink down all the way, bottoming out with only a few thrusts.

“Take me,” Louis whispered as Harry stilled, eyes closed, mouth slack. Squirming, Louis urged him on, desperate for friction. When Harry started to move, Louis jolted in surprise, gasping at the lack of control. As Harry worked up and down, swiveling his hips, Louis met his thrusts, angling his hips in the way he knew would hit Harry’s prostate. He helped Harry find it, supplying him with the angle that will get them both off, before he laid back submissively and took what Harry gave him.

They were all gasps and moans. Biting teeth, slapping skin. Pleasure coursed through Louis’ body as he arched, grabbing for Harry. Their lips brushed as Louis came, and Harry rode it out of him before he himself fell over the edge. 

At some point they detangled their bodies and went to shower, washing off the sweat and come that coated their bodies. Louis didn’t remember that, neither did Harry, because as soon as they were done, they fell back into bed, soaking wet, re-tangled their limbs, and fell fast asleep.

The following morning Louis found Harry lounging by the pool, dressed in a ridiculous motorcycle button down.

“Harold,” Louis said in a scolding voice. He sat down in the chair next to his boyfriend, mug of tea in hand. “Why does that shirt look incredibly similar to a shirt you gave my little brother?”

Removing his sunglasses, Harry glanced at Louis, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Louis hummed, folding his legs beneath him, “I can pull up Dan’s Twitter if you want. I'm pretty sure he tweeted a picture of Ernie wearing the shirt not too long ago.”

Harry licked his lips, waiting for Louis to fulfill his threat.

He pulled out his phone and searched for his stepfather’s profile, bringing up his recent pictures and scrolling through them before he settled on a photo of his little brother. “This?” Louis asked, tossing the phone at Harry who somehow managed to catch it. “You know, the shirt you literally gave to my mom when I took you to see the twins in the hospital?”

Harry looked up and blinked at him.

“You wrapped Ernie’s presents in sailboat wrapping paper and you wrapped Dori’s in the cupcake wrapping paper?”

Harry shook his head, finding it harder to contain his smile.

Louis chuckled quietly, knowing what Harry was playing but not willing to give up just yet. “You gave Dori the cute little onesie that had a pink elephant on it with the pink tutu and matching bib and socks,” Louis explained. “And you gave Ernie that button up shirt with motorized scooters on it with a cute tiny pair of jeans and little baby Vans.”

Harry’s head dropped, breaking eye contact with Louis as he smiled against his chest.

“Oh my god,” Louis said, placing his tea on the table. He stood up and moved onto Harry’s lap, straddling the smirking boy with his arms around his neck. “So, I suppose the real question is, did you purposely dress my baby brother exactly like you, or are you trying to dress like my baby brother?”

Harry looked up with a glint in his eyes, smile stretched across his face as he leaned forward to give Louis a kiss.

“I love you,” Harry whispered, kissing him again. “A lot.” 

\---

Louis pronounced his love back, in between kisses as their tongues tangled together. Harry tasted like coffee and granola and Harry. And Louis was so in love. When Harry pulled away a few moments later, it was in concern for his tea getting cold, and it made Louis chuckle. Always looking out for him, whether it was when he was sick while on tour or skipping meals while on vacation, Harry always watched him like a hawk to make sure he was well taken care of.

Rather than moving back into his seat, he grabbed his cup and settled into Harry’s lap. Pulling up Twitter to scroll through his feed. He glanced at some DMs and went through some pictures of fan art before he stalked all of his siblings on their accounts. He wanted from profile to profile, checking up on all of his friends before he started creeping on the band.

When he came to Sandy’s profile, he shot up, nearly spilling his tea on Harry’s crotch as he screamed. “HARRY!”

“Yeah, babe?” Harry said, looking up from his own phone.

“SHANNON SAID YES!” he screamed, shoving his phone in Harry’s face.

That startled Harry, causing him to drop his phone and take Louis.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “Sandy did it. He asked.” Harry’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stared at the picture of their bassist and his girlfriend kissing in front of a lake. The picture looked straight out of a movie scene. “Oh my god,” he muttered again. “They’re getting married.”

Louis nodded rapidly, pulling his phone out of Harry’s hands to text his mate congratulations before he sent him a public tweet.

“Should text Shannon as well,” Harry suggested as he peered over his shoulder. “Sign it from me as well, yeah?”

Louis did just that, sighing after the acts were completed.

“Marriage,” he muttered.

“Weddings,” Harry sighed.

“Mmm,” Louis hummed, turning in Harry’s arms to peer at him intently. “Someday, you and me, it’ll happen, H. I’m gonna make it happen.”

“Still want to marry me?” Harry teased, leaning forward to nip at Louis’ collarbone.

“Still wanna have my babies?” Louis countered, yelping slightly when Harry bit just a little too hard.

“All of them,” Harry replied. “Start thinking of names.”

“Kay,” Louis breathed, “How many?”

“At least a dozen,” Harry snickered, strumming his thumbs over Louis’ cheekbones as he gazed into his eyes. “Gonna need twenty-four names that flow nicely with Tomlinson.” Louis’ heart fluttered.

God. Had he mentioned he’s in love? So in love with a boy who loved him so much back that he didn’t even want to keep his last name. Not even hyphen it.

“Okay,” Louis said. “I vote that first baby is a girl named Gracie Anne.”

“After my mum?”

Louis nodded.

“Gracie Anne Tomlinson needs a brother, then,” Harry said. “Maybe Charlie William.” The look on his face was so promising. Just the tint in his eyes told Louis that he was serious, so, so serious, about having babies together. Raising a family together. Gracie and Charlie.

“Ellie May,” Louis suggested.

“We can have a TV show,” Harry said, “and rather than having all of our kids' names start with J, they can all end with IE.”

Louis just kissed him, far too overwhelmed by talking about baby names.

“Gracie.”

Louis kissed him.

“Charlie.”

Louis kissed him.

“Ellie.”

Louis kissed him.

“Sofie.”

Louis kissed him.

“Ollie.”

Louis kissed him.

“Can they end in Y, too? I kind of like the name Toby.”

This time Louis kissed him, swallowing his tongue so Harry would stop listing off the names of their future children. “You are obsessed with babies,” Louis said, sweeping his tongue against Harry’s lips.

“Obsessed with our future babies,” he emphasized. “I can tell them I loved them before I even knew them.”

“And I am so obsessed with you.” Louis’ heart was about to burst.

Harry giggled, wrapping his arms tightly around Louis as they kissed, whispering. “I love you, too,” into his mouth.

They stayed in for the rest of the day. Louis watched Harry run on the treadmill, attempting not to come from simply watching beads of sweat drip down his perfect boyfriend’s perfect abdomen. They lifted weights together, fighting about who had better biceps even though Louis gave up long before Harry, and they showered together, which resulted in mutual blowjobs before they made pasta and marinara for dinner.

While slurping pasta, they watched Netflix documentaries and chatted about how shitty it was that they’d been to so many countries and seen so little.

“We can just drag our kids everywhere,” Harry said sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with Louis, “and go see all the places we didn’t get to see as a family.”

“Think our kids can handle a trip to Machu Picchu?” Louis asked, going along with Harry’s thought process. He didn’t want Harry to feel embarrassed about the fact that he thought about them with kids because Louis did, too. All the time.

“I’ve already been there,” Harry smiled, and Louis stuck his tongue out in response, “but I am sure we will raise well-traveled kids and it will be fine.”

Louis nodded, “Plus you can just wear the little baby backpack so that Gracie or Charlie or Ellie or whoever doesn’t have to walk.”

“Wouldn’t want them climbing around and getting hurt,” Harry blushed, setting his fork down on his plate.

“That would be heartbreaking.” 

The next day, Louis’s last full day in California was spent with Harry in the recording studio out back. Harry had his guitar out, playing the various chords Niall and Ed had taught him, strumming along to songs they were already working on for the next album. Louis helped out with the chords on the piano, playing along with various parts as they harmonized together.

By the end of the day, they’d finished and recorded demos for three songs and felt ridiculously accomplished. As Harry saved their work and shut down the computer system, Louis cleaned the room of their pizza boxes and Subway wrappers, and on the way back to the house, Harry convinced Louis it was time for a skinny dip in the hot tub.

They both eased into the steaming water, shivering at the temperature difference between the night air and the heat that swirled around them. Louis let out a sigh as he eased into the pool of water, moving to sit on the bench with the jets against his back. Harry, too, let out a whine as he eased in, eyes closing for just a moment as the water consumed him.

“Feels so good,” Harry muttered, extending his arms to sweep the water.

“Mmm,” Louis agreed. He watched Harry from where he was, sat across from him, as Harry leaned back against some of the jets, letting the streaming water knead the muscles of his back. Harry’s lips parted, eyelashes resting against his cheeks.

“Sore, babe?” Louis asked.

“Did some yoga before you got up,” Harry replied without opening his eyes. “Hurts.”

Louis nodded in understanding though Harry could not see him. Part of him considered pulling Harry away from the jets so Louis could knead the soreness away himself, but he figured the water would do a better job, so he just sat back and watched his boyfriend unwind.

They sat in silence for a while, Harry with his eyes closed and Louis with his eyes watching, before very quietly, Harry whispered, “please don’t go back,” and Louis’ heart shattered.

Tears threatened Louis’ eyes as his bottom lip quivered, crossing the tile floor to scoop his boyfriend into his arms. Harry sighed, chest shaking as Louis wrapped around him, pressing his face into Harry’s hair. He rocked them back and forth for a moment, before he took a step backwards, sitting on the bench with Harry wrapped around his waist.

“I’ve loved being here with you, Haz,” Louis tried to keep his voice calm. “Every second has been so amazing, baby. So good. I love that we can be around each other like this with a tiny ounce of freedom, and it feels like we own the world.”

Harry sniffled.

“But we don’t,” Louis said quietly. “Not yet. We have a bit more fighting before we can conquer all. And when we do, I won’t have to leave. I know it sucks, babe. And I know the next time I see you in person…” He was about to say she will be here but he decided against it. “…it will be because the tour is starting up, but H, we’ve had so so many good days. And I am endlessly thankful for them.”

Harry pulled back nodding, cheeks stained with two drops of tears that had slipped from the corner of his eye. “I know,” his voice cracked, and he sounded so small. He was bigger than Louis, taller, and at times looked and acted older, but he was so much younger and so much more heartbroken when it came to their love. “But it doesn’t stop me from wanting you to stay here. With me. And not have to go back just so that someone can see you and confirm we were never together.”

“I know,” Louis told him, brushing Harry’s swollen bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s not fair at all.” Louis blinked, trying to avoid being swallowed by emotion. “And god, Harry, I don’t want to leave you. I never want to leave you. I can’t name a single second that I’ve ever wanted to leave your side, not since the moment I met you.”

Through his sniffles, Harry chuckled, “I can. When I filled your new Toms with shaving cream.”

Louis grinned, leaning forward to brush their noses. “I didn’t want to leave you. I wanted revenge. Which is why your favorite…toy…conveniently went missing soon after.” 

“You’re kidding,” Harry’s face went blank. “You…you took that?”

Louis smirked, “Come on, who else knew about that?”

“No one!” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together. “I thought I’d left it somewhere! I freaked out for weeks that some hotel maid was going to find it and sell the story to the tabloids.”

Louis chuckled, “Oh, yes, I can see the headlines now. Butt plug found in Harry Style’s hotel room. That would have been fucking brilliant. Should have done that as my revenge instead.” 

Harry growled, squirming in Louis’ arms in attempts to climb off his lap.

“Mmm, no,” Louis said, tightening his grip. “Not going anywhere.” Immediately Harry gave up, knowing that if Louis wasn’t going to let go, it wasn’t worth the struggle. To settle the tension, Louis kissed him slowly, letting their lips melt together as Harry warmed up to his touch. Once he kissed back fully, he sighed, savoring the feeling of Louis flush against him.

The jets around them swirled as steam rose into the air as they kissed. Harry moved his hips against Louis, their dicks hardening against one another as they panted into each other’s mouths. They made out until they were painfully hard, dripping pre-come into the water.

Knowing that sex in the spa was a definite no, the stumbled out and over to the poolside shower where they rinsed the chlorine off their skin and lazily gave each other hand jobs to take off the edge.

Louis’ heart was racing in his chest, thrumming against his rib cage as Harry’s hands worked around his dick. He was already lightheaded, body tense with pleasure as Harry sucked at the side of his neck.

“Bed,” Louis moaned as Harry dragged his teeth along his jaw. “Please, Haz.”

Harry just whimpered, probably in acknowledgment of what was to come, as he grabbed them both towels from the self. The stumbled inside and through the house, somehow managing to make it to their room without detangling their limbs or unlocking their lips.

In their room, Louis pushed Harry onto the bed, dragging the towel off his waist and discarding of it on the floor.

“Can’t wait, Louis,” Harry whimpered as Louis dragged his hand up Harry’s dick. “I just need you.” His voice was wrecked, raw with emotion. Louis kissed him, the kind of kiss that would bruise both of their lips, but neither cared. Grabbing the bottle of lube, Louis went to coat his fingers, but Harry stopped him and with glossy eyes, insisted he was still stretched from the day before.

Louis’ eyes fluttered, his stomach clenching.

“Okay,” Louis mouthed, squirting lube on his fingers, but using it to slick up his dick. His own hand made him moan, jaw going slack as he ran his fingers along his vein, curling them around himself and pumping slowly.

“Louis,” Harry whined beneath him, reaching up to tug at Louis’ hair. “Fuck me.”

Louis forced his eyes opened and gazed down at his boyfriend, settling between his legs before he folded them up to Harry’s chest. “Yoga has benefits, H,” Louis grinned, pressing a kiss to the inside of Harry’s thigh. “I don’t hate it.”

Before Harry could reply, Louis slipped in, pushing into Harry with just a bit of resistance. Harry yelped in pleasure, twisting his hands in Louis' hair and bringing him down for a heated kiss. As Louis hovered over Harry, he pounded into him, finding a rhythm that left them both gasping for air.

Louis was close. Way too close, far too fast, so he reached down to jerk Harry off in time with  
his thrusts, sickly obsessed with the way Harry arched off the bed, trying to roll to the side and escape over stimulation.

“Come on, baby,” Louis whispered, urging Harry on as the sound of his hips snapping echoed throughout the room. “Come with me, yeah?”

Harry nodded, eyes tightly shut as he moaned, placing his hands over him on the headboard as he arched. “Please, please, please,” he cried, twisting his head side to side. “Louis.” His name was dragged out as he clenched around Louis’ dick.

“Eyes open, H,” Louis somehow managed to pant as he struggled to keep his thrusts neat. He shifted just a little to the side, increasing the pressure on Harry’s prostate. “Look at me.”

Harry’s eyelids flickered open, revealing his dark green eyes that look desperate, full of need.

“Come with me,” Louis insisted, and Harry nodded.

Louis quickened his thrusts and tightened his hand, working Harry to the edge so they both fell together. Harry’s breathing stopped, his head tipped back, but his eyes remained locked with Louis’ as he came, spurred on by the heat of Louis’ come inside it.

Louis moaned watching come spurt from Harry’s dick, hand moving wetly over him until he was done. Only then did he pull out and collapse on top of the younger boy, curling their limbs around each other, stuck together with come.

Sometime later, Harry detangled himself and went to the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth to wipe Louis down. The intimate gesture made Louis’ heart pound, but he kept his breathing steady and his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Because he knew that if he opened them, tears would slip out, and he wasn’t prepared to deal with the flood of emotions quite yet.

Early the next morning, long before Louis was awake, Harry snuck out of their house and headed to the grocery store to prepare food for Louis’ last day in Malibu. He grabbed the necessary ingredients to make just about all of his favorite meals and only had a run-in with one mum of a fan. When he got home, he stored everything away while the coffee brewed and the tea steeped. He considered throwing some bacon and eggs on the stove, but if the morning went as he hoped, they wouldn’t be down for breakfast for another hour or two.

He grabbed the two mugs and went upstairs, searching for his still sleeping boyfriend. Just as he figured, Louis was still fast asleep, caught in the radiance of the white sheets and morning sun.

Harry hummed as he sipped at his coffee, placing the tea for Louis on the bedside table. He sat on Louis’ side of the bed and reached to cup his cheek, running his thumb over his bottom lip. “Baby,” Harry whispered, leaning forward to kiss his nose. “I brought you tea.”

Louis groaned, stretching his limbs as he grabbed for Harry. “Cuddle,” he muttered, eyes still closed.

Harry grinned, putting his coffee down as he scooted into bed, accepting Louis’s arms wrapping around him with a sigh.

“Was gonna wake you up with a blowjob,” Harry chuckled. “But then I went domestic and made you tea.”

“I don’t hate domestic Harry,” Louis commented. “Don’t hate blowjob Harry either.”

Harry snickered, wiggling his butt so it brushed against Louis’ dick, causing him to groan. “Careful, H, still a little sensitive from last night.” His voice was sleepy and it warmed Harry’s heart.

Moving his hips in a circle, Harry played with Louis’ fingers, tracing the lines in the palm of his hand.

“Harry?” Louis asked, barely whispered in his ear.

“Hmm?” Harry responded, turning slightly so he could face Louis.

“I love you.”

Harry blinked, inhaling shakily as he turned around in his arms. “I love you, too, Louis,” Harry told him. “Always have, always will.”

After a lazy exchange of hand jobs to work each other up and blowjobs to get each other off, they showered and dressed, and Harry watched Louis pack what little he’d brought.

“I don’t wanna gooooo,” Louis whined, tossing a sweatshirt into his duffle.

“And I don’t want you to take my favorite sweatshirt,” Harry pouted, pointing to the Topshop sweatshirt he’d ordered a few weeks ago.

“Oh, this?” Louis smirked, “You should have known better, babes.” He held up the grey sweatshirt he had just folded and packed away, pointing to the words on the front. “British Rogue, Harold, need I remind you?”

Harry chuckled, flopping forward to snatch the material out of Louis’ hands, and he hugged it to his chest.

\--

“I know,” Harry said as Louis put his foot on the bed and pointed to his Rogue tattoo. “Maybe I bought it because it reminded me of you.” Harry’s eyes danced with love as he watched his boyfriend fly forward onto the bed, scooping Harry into his arms as he tried to wrestle the sweatshirt away from him.

“Maybe I need to take it with me so that it reminds me of you,” Louis giggled.

“Louis William!” Harry shrieked as Louis tasered his side. “You have more of my sweatshirts in London than I have here. You have more of my sweatshirts in your various closets than I have in mine!”

“Mmmm,” Louis smirked, kissing Harry softly. “And what’s your point?”

Harry just shook his head and kissed Louis, handing over the sweatshirt as he groaned against the older boy’s tongue.

“I’ll wear it when I come back in a few weeks,” Louis whispered quietly. “People will think I bought it because of my tattoo…but you’ll see it and you’ll know.”

They spent the day cuddling on the couch in between meals, watching tv as they laid on top of each other, kissing here and there, running their fingers over each other’s skin. Louis tried to commit each part of Harry to memory. The way he looked, felt, tasted, smile, knowing that it would be about two weeks before he saw him in flesh again.

Around four Harry made them an early dinner and they ate by the pool, lazily talking about the tour and how excited they were to go back to Australia and New Zealand. Louis tried to convince Harry to bungee jump this time, but he was persistent that he would never do that, but loose promises were made that Harry would go to the sea with him and Liam and the two boys would attempt to teach the lengthy boy how to surf.

When they were finished eating, they took their plates inside, and Louis was swatted away when he tried to help clean up.

“I’ve got it,” Harry declared. “You…go!”

So Louis went back to the sofa and turned on mindless TV as he talked with Harry. But he kept glancing at the clock, mentally counting down the minutes until it would all end. As Harry finished cleaning and sat beside Louis, he knew that soon Alberto would appear at the front door with the car waiting, and paradise would end.

A sense of panic set into Louis’s chest as he bit on his fingernails. Harry must have sensed it, because he reached for the tinier boy and pulled him onto his lap. Harry shushed him, though he wasn’t making a noise, gently playing with his hair as he rested his lips on Louis’ crown.

“Not again, Louis. Please don’t,” Harry pleaded, trying to wish away the oncoming breakdown he sensed in the air. “It’s okay, babe.”

Louis was never good with goodbyes—his stomach knotted up, making him feel sick, his eyes welled with tears, making his nose stuffy, and his heart pounded in his chest, making him feel lightheaded.

Harry hated it.

He felt so helpless as Louis crumbled against him. There was nothing worse than watching the boy who put on a strong front for everyone burst into tears over saying goodbye.

Tears fell down Louis’ cheeks, burning their pathway as he whimpered. “I can’t do it,” he muttered into Harry’s shirt. “I can’t leave.”

“Shhh,” was all Harry said, stroking his back calmly, trying to keep himself together. “It’s okay, Lou. It’s okay.”

“I want to stay here. I want to stay with you. I don’t want to keep…keep under…their control,” he hiccupped, tears falling faster. HE didn’t wish them away. He always pretended to be strong, to be sassy, to hold himself up above everyone else. But with Harry he never had to. He could shatter into a million and a half pieces, and Harry would let him, but then he’d pick him back up and piece him back together, because he knew that’s what Louis needed.

“Baby, fourteen days then you’re back here, yeah? Liam and Soph will be here to hang out with us and we can party and have a laugh. And,” Harry paused, biting his bottom lip because he knew he had to say it, but he hated to acknowledge it, “she will have to stay in the guest house, Lou. I won’t let her in here, I won’t.”

Louis sobbed, gripping Harry’s shirt tighter as he made himself smaller.

“We can FaceTime and have phone sex and I will text you ever silly thing that reminds me of you, because you know that everything always does, Lou. You won’t be with me in person, but I will still be with you, everywhere you turn. And you’ll be with me, too!” 

Louis whined, finally pulling back to look Harry in the eyes. He looked broken, beaten down and wounded, his eyes puffy and red, his lips swollen, hair snarled. “But I need a face, Harry. I need a person to believe in, not words on a screen or a moving image on my laptop. I need you.”

“Oh but Louis, that is me. I am the words on the screen and the moving image on your laptop, babe. And I know it’s what we want and it’s not ideal, but baby, sometimes we have to take what we can get. And once you come back here, we will be together for months, on the road touring, making lists of all the places we want to go back to someday,” Harry pleaded for him to understand.

“But babe…you need to go back and be seen so we don’t get in trouble, yeah?” Harry swallowed hard, feeling himself cracking under a load of emotion. “We can’t get caught, baby, or we won’t be able to do this again.”

Louis gulped, wiping tears away from his eyes as he shook his head in understanding. “I know,” he whispered barely loud enough for Harry to hear. “But I still don’t want to leave you.”

Harry smiled weakly, pulling Louis back in for a hug. They stayed like, wrapped around each other, until Alberto knocked on the front door, and they both pulled away with tears in their eyes. 

Louis’ flight boarded at 8:40 PM. He and Alberto went straight from the VIP waiting lounge to the plane. The first thing he did was log onto the wifi, and the second was send a picture of the Los Angeles skyline to Harry with the words I miss you already.

Harry opened the message at the birthday party and his heart sunk. He downed another shot of tequila and called the car to take him home.

On the eighth of January, he went just about everywhere he knew he would be seen while Louis was still sitting on the plane. After an hour and a half run through the hills to distract from the pain of waking up alone, Harry showered and met with friends, and Nadine, at Café Habana for lunch. While they were eating, he graciously accepted an offer for a pick-up game at a local gym, even though he’d been warned there would be plenty of school-age kids around.

He needed to be seen.

But it was during the game that he snapped, his heart finally crumbling the rest of the way as he looked around the room full of people and didn’t see the single person he wanted to be there.

The squeaking of shoes made his head hurt, the constant flashing of iPhone cameras made his eyes water, and the screaming of his name made him want to yell in retaliation. Jeff finally pulled him aside and took him to the locker room where they cleaned up and decided to head to Nobu for dinner.

“Then you can call him, H,” Jeff patted his back gently. “It’ll be okay.”

Harry stifled a whimper as he slid on his boots, following his friend out the back door to his car. They ate dinner quietly, Harry only speaking a word or two as others joined them. Before dessert, Jeff excused them both, and graciously, Harry accepted an early ride home.

“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered as they sat in the driveway. “I—”

“Don’t need an explanation,” Jeff said, turning towards him with a frown. “I get it, H, but we are going to fight, okay? I’m here for both of you. You are my friend and I want you to be happy. I want you to take Louis to pick up games and out for lunch. I want you to want to stay for dessert because Louis is right beside you, making you so happy that the tears in your eyes are caused from the pain of laughing too hard, not the pain of separation.”

Harry sniffled, nodding his head as he raked his fingers through his hair.

“We’re gonna get there,” Jeff insisted. “I promise.”

He knew they would, but he knew it would be a fight, and though it was a fight he was sure he wanted to pick, he wasn’t always sure he had the energy for it. They’d been hidden away for so long…

“Go inside, take a bath, and call your boyfriend, hm?” Jeff suggested. “He was spotted in Westham not long ago. That means it worked, Harry. You did it again, suck some time for yourselves without them knowing. If anything, celebrate that.”

That’s what Harry did. He said goodbye and thank you before he trudged up the front steps of their house, locking the door behind him, trying to ignore how deathly quiet it was.

He found his way to their bedroom and curled beneath the sheets, clothes still on. Pulling out his laptop, he immediately went to Twitter in search of the picture Jeff had mentioned.

He found it instantly. Slotted in with all the blurry pictures of him at Habana and the gym and Nobu was a picture of Louis with a fan, cited at West Ham. Relief flooded through Harry’s veins. He pulled up FaceTime, adjusting the camera so his face crowed the screen as he waited for Louis to answer.

When he did, Harry felt instantly better.

“Hi, Haz,” Louis smiled, his radiant beauty filling the screen. His eyes were tired and his voice sounded weak, and though Harry should have been concerned about the state of his health, he wasn’t. All he cared about was seeing him.

“I miss you,” Harry replied, tear slipping down the side of his cheek.

“I miss you, too, baby,” Louis answered, “but H, we did it. No one knows.”


End file.
